


I don't dream since I quit sleeping, I haven't slept since I met you

by hobbitual



Series: D/s Hydra Husbands [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Collars, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pet Names, Pet Play, sort of. theyre getting there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 03:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5401796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbitual/pseuds/hobbitual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this one got away from me quite a bit and has a lot more feelings and serious stuff but i hope you liked it <3 talk to me on tumblr @ usopp :^)</p></blockquote>





	I don't dream since I quit sleeping, I haven't slept since I met you

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Я не вижу снов, потому что перестал спать, я не спал с тех пор, как встретил тебя.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7981063) by [Saysly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saysly/pseuds/Saysly)



The collar is tight. That's the first thing Brock thinks when it's finally around his neck. It's loose enough that he can breathe, but tight enough that he can feel it pressing into his throat. It feels like nothing he's ever felt before. He's entertained the idea of wearing a collar for a while now, and since he and Jack did...whatever they did the last time they messed around, he's been itching for it to become a reality.

 

He doesn't know what the collar looks like, Jack wouldn't let him see it. But the way it makes him feel, fuck...it makes him feel  _owned_ . He doesn't need to know what it looks like when it's got his thoughts feeling so floaty and calm. Brock feels safe. His responsibilities and stresses, they're nowhere to be found right now. Just the other day he felt so goddamn overwhelmed, Jack hadn't been around and there was so much going on at work and nothing had gone right. Brock would never admit it out loud, or even think about it under any circumstance but the present one, but at one point he had felt tears welling up in the back of his eyes from how goddamn exhausted he felt. But this, this is the opposite of that. He never wants to feel anything but this.

 

Brock doesn't know if he can go another day without feeling like this.

 

“Looks like you're really enjoyin' that.”

 

And just like that, Brock's snapped out of his current frame of mind, totally focused on Jack's presence in front of him.

 

“Jack. I'm – yeah, I like it. It feels...it's good.” Christ, he can never just spit it out when Jack is around; always goddamn tongue tied. It's just Rollins, isn't it? There's no need for stuttering around someone he's known for years.

 

“More than good, I'd say. I've been watchin' you fiddling around with it for a couple minutes now. You never used to be this spacey,” Jack says. “Somethin' on your mind?”

 

Jack is right, Brock has been running his fingers around the edges of the collar the whole time he'd been thinking. He lets his hand fall to his lap and, as much as he'd like to right now, knows he's supposed to, he can't meet Jack's eyes.

 

“Nothing important. It feels good, is all.” Brock looks up at Jack then, cracking a small smile. “Checking out the quality of the leather. You have good taste after all, Rollins.”

 

Jack isn't smiling back at him, though. Jack looks kind of...annoyed? Brock feels his smile falter, and slip off his face entirely. His brow furrows and he stands, clenching his fists and scowling. The tag on his collar jingles, and Brock registers it in the back of his mind, but he just can't let this go. Jack can't get the upper hand on him right now.

 

“It's a joke, Rollins. Remember what a joke is? Or are you stuck in mother hen mode because we decided to be goddamn boyfriends? I'm fine, you don't need to hover, and you sure as hell don't have to _look_ at me like that. It's like privacy doesn't even exist anymore. I'm not – I'm – please, Jack. I'm okay. Honestly.“

 

Brock takes deep breaths, unclenching his fists so he can try to calm down. What the fuck is his deal lately? Maybe he's missed Jack, he hadn't seen him in a while, but they're together now and he's got what he's been waiting for the whole time. He has nothing to be upset about. He's not a fucking chick, or a little kid, he should be able to handle this. He should be able to handle anything. He doesn't need to wear a collar to feel like he can fucking  _function_ . Brock is ready to just take the damn thing off, getting as far as bringing his hands up to his neck, but Jack grabs his wrists before he can do much more.

 

“Shut the fuck up for a second, Rumlow,” Jack growls. “We've been over you remembering who you're talkin' to. You want this with me? You show me some goddamn respect. You think you're bein' funny talkin' about us bein' boyfriends when you and I both know what you want, and who you want it from. I ain't a fool, I know what having a collar means to you. I know what it means, you sittin' there lookin' like you went someplace else. I asked you how you're feelin' because I care, and I got you the collar because I care. You need to let the damn walls down, Brock. Stop pretendin' youre somethin' you're not.”

 

Jack takes his hands off Brock's wrists, and Brock feels his arms fall to his sides of their own accord. None of it is registering. He can't feel a thing. His eyes won't focus, his ears are ringing and it feels loud enough to deafen him.

 

Jack's hands, one carding through his hair, the other holding his chin gently between forefinger and thumb, is what brings him out of it.

 

“It's okay, sweetheart. I'm sorry for yellin' at you. I know what you're feelin', and I shouldn't have tried to pull it out of you like that. I just wanted to check up on you and see if you were doin' okay. I didn't want you to get overwhelmed and I guess I didn't do a good enough job at that. We're figurin' this out. Hm?”

 

Eyes closed, Brock lets Jack's words and voice wash over him for a moment, and lets himself enjoy having his hair petted. He wants to go back to how he felt earlier. He wants to...to let himself enjoy being owned and cared for again. He can do it. He can do it for Jack.

 

Brock blinks his eyes open, and looks up at Jack through his lashes.

 

“I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to disrespect you, or snap at you, I just – I was thinking about how safe I feel when we, we do the things we've been doing and I – I've never felt peaceful like that before in my damn life, I felt like I didn't have anything at all to worry about because I'm owned, I'm claimed and I'm cared for and I – I want to be –“

 

Brock stutters to a halt and swears under his breath, feeling like a fool again; it's too fucking hard to talk about how you feel.

 

Jack wraps his arms around Brock, pulling him in to lean against his chest. Brock hesitates for a second, but hugs Jack in return. He can't help but feel relieved that Jack isn't mad at him anymore. He's just...tired, now.

 

Jack rests his chin on Brock's head, and hugs Brock tightly. It feels almost as good as focusing on how his collar felt. Still feels, really. He forgot about it when he had that stupid outburst but he can feel it again, a solid weight on his neck, the tag pressing into his sternum where his body's pressed up against Jack's.

 

“You want to be a good boy,” Jack says, and Brock can hear the smile in his voice. “You want to be a good boy for daddy, don't you, princess? You're allowed to have a hard time of it, until you get used to it. Your daddy's a patient man. You don't have to be worryin' about a thing.”

 

Brock shivers at Jack's words, rapidly approaching that state of mind he always seems to get into when Jack talks to him that way.

 

“In fact,” Jack continues, “I got you a little somethin' else when I got your collar. Turns out they've got a bunch of things that might appeal to somebody as special as you. I was savin' it for later but, well, maybe it'll help you relax a little bit. I'm thinkin' you need some alone time anyway. Follow me, princess.”

 

Brock follows Jack into their bedroom, and watches him open the closet. It's hard for Brock to focus now, his eyes are heavy and he feels spent and exhausted from earlier, but when he sees what Jack's taken out, his mouth drops open.

 

“Jack you – is that a – what are you –“

 

Jack sets the bundle on the floor by the foot of the bed and turns to Brock, giving him a wry smile.

 

“Yes, it's a puppy bed. And yes, it's big enough for a human. And it's for you, princess. I was thinkin' to show you this later, after gettin' it out of you that this is somethin' you'd like to try. If you're wantin' a collar then I figured this ain't so far off the mark, and daddy knows what his sweetheart needs. You could use a nap, princess, and some time to think about everythin'. What d'you think?”

 

Brock is at a loss for words. He can't think of anything at all he could say to this. There really isn't anything he could say about how he feels about this. So he shows it instead.

 

Brock launches himself into Jack's arms, and kisses him as hard as he can. Jack catches him and steadies them both, laughing into the kiss and hugging Brock tight around the waist. When they pull apart, Jack rests his forehead against Brock's, and grins.

 

“Guess that tells me how you feel about it, then, doesn't it? I'm glad I could make you so happy, princess. 'Specially after that little spat earlier.”

 

Brock scoffs and disentangles himself from Jack's embrace, certainly blushing, and he knows Jack can see it. He rolls his eyes, anyway.

 

“Yeah, well, I deserve nice things for all the crap that comes from being with you, Rollins. But – it's nice. It's definitely something, something I wanted, but I wasn't sure how to tell you. Or even myself, I guess. Thank you.” Brock looks away for a second, and mumbles, “Sir.”

 

Jack gives him a playful grin, and runs his hand through Brock's hair.

 

“One more thing, sweetheart,” Jack says, turning around to fetch a small mirror Brock uses to fix his hair when the bathroom's occupied. “I didn't let you see your collar, and you've been a good boy, so I'll let you see it now.”

 

Jack hands Brock the mirror, and Brock raises it up to his neck to finally see what the big deal is about what his collar looks like. It can't be that –

 

“Rollins, what the fuck!”

 

Brock's collar is  _pink_ . Pink with rhinestones and a metal tag shaped like a heart, with Princess in cursive script stamped in the middle.

 

Brock is ready to throw the damn mirror at Jack's head, but Jack's already out of the room, and Brock can hear him laughing from down the hall.

 

Brock sets down the mirror in its place instead, and turns to the bundle at the foot of the bed.

 

At least his damn bed isn't pink. It's red and black plaid, with a black blanket on top meant to line the inside. The blanket is one of Jack's, and Brock feels his eyes prickling with tears, but this time it's not because he's overwhelmed or frustrated.

 

Inside the bed, Brock finds a note, handwritten in Jack's messy scrawl.

 

_Daddy loves you, Princess_

 

Brock blushes fiercely, and quickly crushes the note in one fist. He'll get rid of it later so Jack doesn't have anything to hold over him. He'll just keep it in his pocket for now.

 

The bed actually is big enough for Brock to lay in comfortably, with enough room to move around and get comfortable. He lays the blanket on the bottom and buries his face in it, inhaling Jack's scent, finally letting himself drift in the floaty, peaceful haze that his collar and Jack give him.

 

He'll be good, for Jack.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this one got away from me quite a bit and has a lot more feelings and serious stuff but i hope you liked it <3 talk to me on tumblr @ usopp :^)


End file.
